


Baby Steps

by Hekate1308



Series: Right Timing [5]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: The one who’s the most surprised that her husband proves to be an excellent father is Endeavour himself. Joan, who’s experienced his devotion to his loved ones time and time again, knew from the moment she told him she was pregnant he’d look well after their child.





	Baby Steps

The one who’s the most surprised that her husband proves to be an excellent father is Endeavour himself. Joan, who’s experienced his devotion to his loved ones time and time again, knew from the moment she told him she was pregnant he’d look well after their child.

And watching him hold their son for the first time, she is surer than ever that things will turn out well.

She’ll never forget the look on Dad’s face when they tell him they’ll call him Fred, she’s equally certain of that.

* * *

A few of her friends already have children themselves. Joan has sat through her fair share of heart-to-hearts when an acquaintance of hers needed to rant about their spouse, who they didn’t help with the baby, or expected the house to be squeaky-clean even though they were clearly struggling as a new parent, or how they barely paid attention to their own child (that friend of hers is divorced by now, and Joan can’t really blame her).

She, however, has no reason to complain whatsoever. As soon as Endeavour brings her homes and helps her settle down comfortable, he makes tea and regularly checks on her and Fred. Soon enough, she also realizes that he’s trying to come home punctually every day; sometimes it can’t be helped, of course, but most of the time, he manages to actually live a nine-to-five life now.

When she tells Mum during their weekly sunny dinner (and Endeavour and Dad are busy mooning over Fred) she smiles. “Your father was the same. He was scared stiff of missing out on something big.”

One Saturday afternoon – a friend called her and invited her to go shopping and Endeavour insisted she take some time for herself – she comes home and finds him playing with Fred on the living room floor, the radio playing –

“The Beatles?” she asks.

“It’s important he be subjected to all sorts of music for his development” Endeavour says bravely even as he winces at the sounds coming out of the radio.

She kisses him and surprises him with a visit to the opera on the next weekend.

* * *

It’s neither the first nor the last time something like this happens. After she’s caught him reading several children’s book she’s never heard of to Fred, he finally admits he checked out some books from the library to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Oh, Endeavour” she sighs, “all parents now and then do the wrong thing. That’s part of life. The kid learns that and moves on.”

“But what if Fred doesn’t” he frets and she once more thinks of his father and stepmother with anger. How could they let him grow up in such a loveless house?

“He will, we’ll make sure of it” she assures him.

* * *

Soon after that, another case like the one with the insane murderer obsessed with opera music happens – serial killer, that’s what endeavour told her later they are called, she remembers – and he almost does miss out on something after all.

Fred is nine months old and a bright, curious child, with eyes that are slowly changing colour from the blue they had at birth; she strongly suspects they will eventually look like her husband’s.

Joan is working at the bank again, Mum always glad to watch Fred for half a day, and understands Endeavour’s fears now. What if he should say his first word when neither of them is there? She knows it’s too soon yet, but still…

When she arrives home with Fred in her arms, she looks at the clock and wonders if and when her husband will make it home.

She has just put the groceries away she got on the way from the bank to her parents’ place when Fred makes an excited noise and she turns around.

He’s standing. Their son is standing, holding himself up with help from their living room table, grinning proudly at her.

“Oh sweetheart –“

He wobbles and she quickly catches him in her arms before anything happens. “Wait until Daddy comes home.”

She didn’t mean it literally, but Fred proves to be fussy and stubborn that night, and she’s still trying to get him to settle down in bed at nine thirty when Endeavour comes home.

The fact that he doesn’t immediately check up on them tells her that it’s been a bad day and that he needs a moment to breathe, but when several minutes have passed and he hadn’t come into Fred’s room yet, she gently takes their son and walks back to the living room, Fred falling quiet as she enters.

Endeavour’s sitting on the couch, his head buried in his hands, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Oh dear. It’s bad then.

She walks up to about half the distance from the coffee table to the couch – only a few baby steps separate her from her husband. Literally.

“Hey” she says gently. When Endeavour raises his head and tries his best to smile at them, she slowly puts Fred to the ground. “Go to Daddy” she encourages him, and he manages to walk up to the couch, making happy noises as he does so.

He stares at Fred in awe, then catches him. “You’re walking!” This time, his smile is real. “Joan, our son is walking!”

“I hadn’t noticed” she says lightly; as if he even heard her answer, since he’s still going on.

“Nine months, that’s rather early, he’s such a clever child –“

“Did you really think there was a chance he wouldn’t be, with us as his parents?” she asks mildly and leans down to kiss him. “Do you want to put him to bed? I haven’t managed that tonight.”

When he comes back, he looks much better. He takes her in his arms. “Thank you.”

“Any time. Do you want to talk about it?”

Dad’s rule of not talking about work once the his hat hangs on its stand works for him and Mum, but it wouldn’t do for him. He’d just be wallowing miserably in his own thoughts.

“Another victim” he tells her and she tightens her grip around him.

“You’ll catch them. You and Dad always do.”

“God, what would I do without you” he says, drawing back.

“Luckily we don’t have to find out. Now let’s have dinner; I won’t have Mum admonish you for losing weight again.”

* * *

They solve the case in time for Sunday dinner; Joan meets Morse at her parents’ house with Fred.

Her boy excitedly chatters with his grandparents, as usual; he definitely got that from her. It gives her the chance to gently slide her hand over his and ask, “Everything alright?”

He nods and smiles, although weakly. “Strange took him down. I was about to run after him, he all but ordered me to stay back. You know how he is. “It’s not all about yourself anymore, matey””.

She reminds herself that they should invite him to dinner again soon.

* * *

Joyce moves into oxford when Fred is two, explaining that she wants to see her nephew grow up instead of getting letters and phone calls telling her all about it.

Fred is a bit shy at first because he’s only seen her a few times so far, but soon he’s happily running around, Joyce chasing him through their garden.

Joan sits down next to Morse and lies her head on his shoulder. She’s been feeling rather tired lately.

“Hm?” Endeavour asks, drawing her closer.

“nothing. Just a bit tired.”

He stiffens and she raises her head to look at him. But he only smiles that enigmatic smile of his.

It’s when she checks her calendar that evening that she realizes.

Of course. She was tired when Fred came along too.

And still Endeavour is waiting for her to tell him.

She definitely picked the right man.

* * *

“I’m even happier I moved here now” Joyce tells her a month later when they meet up for coffee. “If you ever need a babysitter, don’t hesitate to call.”

“I might pick you up on that… I can’t always trust Mum to do it” she says somewhat guilty, having left her son with her again.

“Hey, from what I can tell, you’re both doing a wonderful job. Endeavour always said he didn’t want children, and look at him now. I’ve never seen him happier.”

2He thought he wouldn’t be a good father. I always disagreed with that.”

“He told me, and I am glad you did. Endeavour always had this tendency to get lost in his head. Can’t do that with the kiddies around. He’s downright jolly, these days.”

Joan can’t help the rush of pride she feels at the thought that it’s her and their children that have made him happy.

Not that that’s all she gets from their marriage. Joan, too, is happier than she ever thought possible after she ran away.

“What about you?” she asks. “Any strapping young doctor trying to woo you?”

Gwen decided to become a nurse; Morse couldn’t be prouder of his sister.

She blushes. “No, thank God. Endeavour would freak out if I told him one of them tried to date me.”

“That’s what brothers are for” she says, secretly looking forward to Sam eventually leaving the army and returning to Oxford. He’ll love being the annoying yet benevolent uncle, no doubt.

**Two years later**

“Joan!”

There’s no urgency in his voice as there would be if there would be in case of an emergency, but she still hastens to come in from the garden. “What is it?”

Morse is standing in the living room, watching Prue and Fred. Fred is walking up and done in front of her. “Like that, Prue.”

“He has decided she wants to learn to walk” Endeavour says under his breath.

It’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

“And do you think –“

And then, suddenly, Prue grabs the table her brother used to and heaves herself up before taking a few steps towards him.

Joan gasps and the children turn around, Fred calling out, “Look what Prue can do, Mum, Dad!”

She carefully scoops her daughter up before she can fall down and kisses her cheek. “Well done, love.”

Endeavour takes Fred into his arms and kisses her.

All is well.


End file.
